


At Life's Crossroad

by Merfilly



Category: DCU - Comicverse
Genre: F/F, Wakes & Funerals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-24
Updated: 2007-10-24
Packaged: 2017-12-12 12:01:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/811387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A friend comes to pay her respects as Gotham's Finest is laid to rest</p>
            </blockquote>





	At Life's Crossroad

It was a rare day in Gotham. The sun was shining, the wind was a gentle breeze, and there did not seem to be a heavy menace on the city.

In short, it was a day James Gordon would have enjoyed.

His daughter kept that thought close, sitting front and center as six of Gotham's finest officers carried the black casket shrouded in its flag to the waiting grave. She had to reach up and squeeze Helena's hand as her eye fell on Sarah's tombstone next to it; her father was going back to the woman he loved at last.

She made it through the service, the flag presentation, all of the myriad things that made up the formal goodbye to a fallen officer. Helena remained at her side through it all, with no one thinking it odd after five years of an unspoken partnership in the civilian world.

As people began the process of offering her comfort and stories of her father, Helena's hand on her shoulder kept her grounded, kept her thinking and acting the correct way. She did not let the world see that deep emptiness at losing her father, kept it moderated to the more acceptable levels the world expected to see. Deep grief made people nervous, and Gotham's people being nervous was never good. The officers needed to see her, Jim's kid, pressing on with strength.

Her resolve lasted until the last person came forward, when most others were leaving. A quiet, small woman, hair still as black as the leather she had come to be associated with, stepped forward. Honest tears sparkled on her cheeks; losing the commissioner was losing a solid tie to her own past.

"Helena." She greeted the taller woman with a firm hug. She then dropped, crouching in front of the redhead, her blue eyes gentle. "Barbara." The friendship of old flared sharply, and all of life's little interruptions meant nothing, as Barbara accepted the hug, the understanding, and the presence of another cop's daughter who knew what it meant to be strong for the public.

"Come on, ladies. Let's go home," Helena told them both, softly. There was no question or hint of refusal, as all three turned to leave a great man to his final rest.


End file.
